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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724049">Expectations</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivitz/pseuds/Zivitz'>Zivitz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Suits (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Pregnancy, Realistic, sometimes it sucks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:08:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,871</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivitz/pseuds/Zivitz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna finds the miracle of life isn't all it's cracked up to be.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Expectations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Many thanks to Abby, Lizzy, Aditi, Anna, Jane, and everyone else I've forgotten who has looked at this and encouraged me and listened to me whine and complain. Love you all.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How are you feeling today?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Five simple words that normally relayed a sense of polite interest, if not genuine concern, and Donna had grown to hate them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>How was she feeling? She was tired- sleepy and sluggish and felt like dragging herself out of bed every morning should earn her an Olympic medal. Tired of the intense nausea that came at every time of day and night for every and no reason, that sent her running for a toilet, a sink, a trash can, one time even a coffee cup, only for nothing to happen. Except those times when it did happen, leaving her throat raw and her muscles aching from the effort of expelling whatever was left in her stomach. Tired of people asking how she was doing, of offering well meaning advice and stories of their own pregnancies, their wives’, their sisters’. Some offering hope that the nausea would end soon, others cheerfully informing her that it lasted their entire pregnancies.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was feeling irritated, frustrated, unsure, insecure, terrified... but mostly Donna felt cheated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cheated out of lazy days of sex with her husband, enjoying themselves and hopeful that it would fulfill their dearest hopes. Cheated out of the anticipation, of waiting and hoping. Cheated, too, out of the disappointment of needing to try again. Actively trying to get pregnant was supposed to be An Experience- a roller coaster of joy and despair that hopefully, <em>hopefully</em> culminated in wishes coming true. But she didn’t get to have that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And feeling all those things, well. That brought guilt. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a baby. She did, she knew she did. She just... wasn’t sure she’d wanted one so <em>soon</em><span>. Which seemed counterintuitive considering she and Harvey had made the quite joyful decision to start trying, but she just thought she’d have </span><em>time</em><span>. Time to wrap her brain around doing the one thing she’d spent her entire reproductive life trying to avoid. Time to get used to the idea of giving up her autonomy to a bundle of cells that would grow into her baby. Time to adjust her worldview because she didn’t feel ready but figured she would be by the time it actually worked.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Except she didn’t get any of that, because she was tired and irritable and her spanx were digging into her stomach uncomfortably, and she never got her period after she stopped the pill so what should have been falling into bed every night laughing turned into laying on a slab in her doctor’s office with warmed gel on her belly, being informed she was 1</span>
  <span>3</span>
  <span> weeks into her first pregnancy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And it kind of sucked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was last week, and Donna patted the belly that seemed to have popped out of nowhere overnight. There was no sweet secret to be kept between her and Harvey, no whispers and giggles at night about what people might say when they told them. Instead there was polite expressions of surprise that told them absolutely </span>
  <em>no one</em>
  <span> was surprised at their news, and she felt cheated out of that, too. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At least her parents had been surprised. There was that, at least. Mike, too. Rachel faked it well before confessing “I thought maybe- but I figured you weren’t saying anything for a reason. Oh my god, I’m so excited!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harvey was over the moon about it, though they’d lucked out by cheating the system. Donna loved him for it, loved the way he looked at her with wonder and rubbed his hand over the small bump that seemed to be growing by the day. Loved how he was in awe of this experience and wanted to make her as comfortable as possible- she’d spent enough time complaining about nausea that most nights he just made her hot lemon water and held her while they watched TV. She knew it was killing him to not have his hands all over her all the time, but on top of everything else she felt like she was being <em>used </em><span>and it was taking some time to get used to. It felt like as soon as everyone knew she was pregnant, she’d stopped being ‘Donna, person’ and started being ‘Donna, incubator’. People who asked how she was feeling were really asking about the baby, not </span><em>her</em><span>, when she herself was still coming to grips that there was really a baby in there at all.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>S</span>
  <span>he’d expected Harvey to be the one freaking out, not her. But he was born for this, every inch the doting husband and expectant father. He brought her tea and rubbed her back or her feet without her having to ask, snuggled up behind her in bed and asked how her day had been the way he always did, and even if he couldn’t keep his hands off her belly she knew he was asking </span>
  <em>her</em>
  <span>, Donna, not just wanting an update on how her pregnancy was progressing. </span>
  <span>She was grateful- so incredibly grateful- for his presence and support. Truthfully the only one she’d ever imagine having a child with and having given up on that... she decided to try and count her blessings in this particular moment of lying in bed with the love of her life beside her, his hand low on her belly and blissfully for the moment not feeling anything but herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then Harvey’s hand moved to her breast, a comfort they’</span>
  <span>d</span>
  <span> both discovered they liked, and the bubble burst as suddenly as the pain that </span>
  <span>shot</span>
  <span> through her. She gentl</span>
  <span>y</span>
  <span> moved his hand away as tears gathered in her eyes. She felt like such a failure. As a </span>
  <span>human, as a </span>
  <span>woman, as a </span>
  <em>mother,</em>
  <span> and she hadn’t even had the chance to be one yet. </span>
  <span>The tears were flowing freely and she tried to mop at the mess with the duvet cover when she felt Harvey lift himself on an elbow. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey,” he said, concern evident in his scratchy sleep voice. “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m just,” she flailed a hand at her face, then all over her, “a mess.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>I can see that, but why?” He leaned over to her side table and plucked a few tissues for her from the box there. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>I’m supposed to be happy,” she blubbered, and Harvey turned her over.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you talking about?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This,” she said, gesturing to her middle. “I’m supposed to be happy all the time and I’m just not. What’s wrong with me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No one is happy <b>all</b><span> the time, Donna, you know that.”</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span><span>But I’m not even happy </span></span><em><span><span>most</span></span></em><span><span><span> of the time.” Seeing the pained expression on Harvey’s face, she sobered slightly. “I want this baby. I do. I know I do, and I know it’s all going to be worth it, but Harvey... It’s so </span></span></span><em><span><span>hard</span></span></em><span><span><span>.” </span></span></span><span><span><span>Fresh tears began to fall as she poured out all of her worries and woes and complaints.</span></span></span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>When she was finished, Harvey sighed and lay down next to her, taking on hand in his. “What can I do?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Donna blew her nose loudly. “I don’t think anyone can do anything, at this point. It’s not like I can quit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He rubbed a thumb over hers. “No,” he said slowly, “But maybe you can find someone to talk to about it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She snorted softly. “As if I can admit any of this to anyone. It’s bad enough I’m feeling this way, I’m not going to go telling people.” She turned her head and watching him look at the ceiling. “You don’t hate me, do you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harvey looked over so quickly he felt a twinge in his neck. “Of course not. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>W</span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>hat you’re doing is the hardest thing I can imagine and there’s no way I can take any of this burden away from you. You’re entitled to your feelings. No,” he said, bringing their hands up to place a kiss on her knuckles. “I could never hate you, and definitely not for this. I’d probably be worse if our positions were reversed.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Donna laughed shortly, the sound </span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>low and nasal</span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>. “You totally would.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>She laughed again, and turned toward him, running a hand down his cheek. “</span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Thank you for being so understanding.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He smiled against her palm. “That’s kind of my job now.” He furrowed his brows. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to someone about this, someone who’d understand?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She flopped back down and put a hand over her eyes. “Like who? My mother loves telling me how much she enjoyed being pregnant. I don’t really have any friends with kids. I definitely don’t want to scare Rachel.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know. Have you looked online? You can’t possibly be the only one who feels this way. Or there’s always Sheila.” He said it so casually that she was immediately suspicious. She lifted her hand to peer at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you mean, ‘there’s always Sheila’?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I mean, she had Lucy last year so she might be able to offer some support.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her eyes narrowed. “You mean you already called and talked to her about it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harvey shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “Maybe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Harvey!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“<span><span>I’ve been worried, okay? You’ve </span></span></span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>been having such a</span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span> rough time and I just thought maybe she might able to help. I think you’d be surprised.” </span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He </span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>looked away</span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>, muttering, “I sure was.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She smirked. “You learned a lot more than you bargained for, didn’t you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He </span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>made an exaggerated face</span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“So much more, you have no idea.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Well, it serves you right.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“<span><span>I’m only trying to help,” he said gently, and she sighed. </span></span></span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“<span><span>I know you are. And thank you, I’ll call. I just hate feeling this way. I </span></span></span>
  <em>
    <span>
      <span>want</span>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span> to be happy. I want to have all those feelings everyone talks about, and all I can think about is how miserable I am.” She placed a hand on her stomach, feeling her respite coming to an end. The familiar twist of nausea was beginning to form, and she sighed. “I at least hope the morning sickness doesn’t last forever. Or just gets a little better.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“<span><span>Hey.” Harvey lifted himself up again, brushing stray hair away from her face. “We’ll get through this the way we always have.” He covered his hand over hers. “Together.”</span></span></span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Together,” she nodded, patting his face with her free hand. “But you’d better move, or we’re going to be doing a lot of clean up together, too.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harvey moved so quickly she would have laughed, but she was afraid to open her mouth. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“<span><span>Lemon tea?” he called as she ran for the bathroom. She didn’t have time to answer him, barely making it to the sink before bringing up what little there was in her stomach. When she looked up, he was standing in the doorway. </span></span></span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“<span><span>Lemon tea would be great,” she croaked, and he nodded. </span></span></span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“<span><span>Coming right up.”</span></span></span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Donna ran the tap, rinsing out her mouth and reaching for her toothbrush. Pregnancy hadn’t turned out to be what she expected, at least so far, but </span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>life with Harvey was everything she’d hoped and more. And maybe she was just going to be miserable until she held her baby in her arms, but she knew he was right about one thing: t</span>
    </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>hey’d get through it together.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
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